Let Sleep What Cannot be Woken
by mandaree1
Summary: Connie finds herself getting her second tattoo and finds Steven to still be regenerating. It's been two months.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Steven Universe!**

 **Title: Let Sleep What Cannot be Woken**

 **Summary: Connie finds herself getting her second tattoo and finds Steven to still be regenerating. It's been two months.**

 **Warnings: Young adult Connie, tattoos, etc.**

 **...**

Onion's snake is a cuddler, or so she's been told. Connie knows, scientifically, that the creature is merely seeking out warmth, but finds she prefers the former idea as it sluggishly curls itself around her wrist, making its presence known with a flick of its tongue. She wonders what it smells on her.

The sound of whirring engines is comforting. Not so much the sensation of the needle piercing her thin shoulder over and over again, but she can deal.

Vidalia plays supervisor, as far as supervising goes, sitting on the other chair with an easel and paint brushes. There's a towel haphazardly spread beneath it, but she's using one to cover up at the moment, so Connie can't really judge. Clad in a robe and slippers, as it's still fairly early in the morning, she's remarkably better dressed than she is, with just a pair of black jeans. Her shirt and bra was momentarily discarded to give Sour Cream better access to the muscled planes of her collarbone, but it wasn't particularly bothersome.

"How're you doin', Connie?"

"Pretty good, ma'am." Connie swallowed. "Getting pricked by a needle a couple thousand times, but good."

"Ah, can't be any worse than getting stabbed or whatever, amiright?"

Vidalia never asks about her scars, and she feels a tad miffed at the mild prompting, even as vague as it might have been. "Yes, ma'am."

"How's Steven doin'?" She glances at the girl, then looks away, for privacy's sake. "Any better?"

Connie's chest gave a rather involuntary squeeze. "Better, I suppose. His gem started to glow a few days ago."

" _Meaning_?"

"He's beginning to regenerate. But, seeing how he has to make a completely new organic form, it's going to take time." She watches the snake lift its head for a peek about the room, eyes distracted. "It's been about two months already."

" _And_ two tattoos." Sour Cream breaks in proudly. "Two totally amazing tattoos."

"Very amazing." She agreed readily. "And I'm still so thankful you were willing to do this for me."

If there's one thing Connie's learned about Sour Cream, it's that he takes compliments, no matter how well-earned, with a sheepish blush and laugh. "Well, uh, thanks for bein' my canvas, dude. With all this practice you're giving me, I'll have my license real soon."

"Then I'll finally be able to start paying you." She mused, chuckling.

Sour Cream seemed to be miffed by the mere suggestion. "No way!"

His protests fall on deaf ears. "I already know what I want next time. It's not gonna come cheap."

Onion made grab hands. The boy tended to watch with unblinking eyes during these sessions from the floor, and Connie was mostly used to him by now. She gently unwound the snake for him to take back to his room.

She missed having someone to hug whenever she felt down, but she couldn't admit that to Vidalia, no matter _how_ nice she's been. She doesn't want to sound selfish.

* * *

"They're vines, see?" She traces the silver tendrils down to the point near her elbow where they vanish, complete with thorns. "I'm gonna have a rose put at the top, near my shoulder, so it'll look like a magic plant, or something."

When she'd first touched the glowing stone, Connie's heart ticked, as it always did. A part of her- the part that was still small and without scars- stubbornly clung to the fantasy that a touch from her might make him burst back into existence to greet her, as if in a fairy tale.

No dice. Connie's pulse settled. The heat in his gem rose, as it did on occasion. She figured that meant he was concentrating extra hard on a part of himself. Like last week, when he'd practically burned a hole in her thigh, he was putting the finishing touches on his heart, or something like that.

Connie worries, but Garnet's possibilities are almost all positive, and none of the gems seem the slightest bit worried by how long he's taking. They're just happy he's capable of coming back to them in the first place.

Figures. They're immortal; two months must feel like two weeks. Or, maybe, two days. Lucky.

"I'm thinking of getting another one on my other shoulder. You know those scars I got; from the fall on the gravel? I was thinking they could be the thorns. It wouldn't be pretty, but it'd look cool."

The silence that follows is unsettling, and Connie sighs. She steadied herself by listening to the ocean shift and crash against the sands- better to avoid than to let herself fell into memories of the battlefield.

Not here. When she was safely at home, maybe, but not here and now.

With that in mind, Connie sat on the bench and held Steven's gem, pressing it against her first inking- a silver star, one edge of it hiding beneath her jeans, marred only by the gaping scar from a nasty stab wound: her official Crystal Gem insignia and maybe kinda-sorta her ode to Steven, and his possible demise at the time of its making- and hoped.

 **Author's Note: My newest headcanon is that Connie gets tattoos over/using her scars and Steven takes forever to regenerate 'cause he's half-human so I stuck them together into one story!**

 **-Mandaree1**


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